


Forging Traditions

by JustGotThemSharpened



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Merry Christmas Sylvain! You're getting the strap, Sylvix Secret Santa 2020, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trans Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:02:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28178076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustGotThemSharpened/pseuds/JustGotThemSharpened
Summary: Their own Christmas tradition started a few years ago. Sylvain was watching the Christmas lights play over his best friend's face, giving him an ethereal glow. Felix was wrapped up tightly in Sylvain's coat that he insisted he didn't need, it's not that cold, after storming out of his father's house and forgetting his own.My work for the Sylvix Secret Santa for CelestialKory!
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 16
Kudos: 49
Collections: Sylvix Gift Exchange 2020





	Forging Traditions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Celestialmari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celestialmari/gifts).



> CW: terms used for Felix's genitalia include: cock, folds.

Forging Traditions

Christmas tradition in the Fraldarius family used to mean a stuffy dinner with Rodrigue, Glenn and Felix all sitting at the big dining table; Rodrigue droning on about work, Glenn’s accomplishments, and oh, couldn’t Felix take a page out of his brother’s book? He was so smart and talented, Felix could learn something from him. Glenn had always been good at cutting in the conversation and smoothing things over at that point, trying to clear the air into something less tense.

After Glenn’s death, Christmas dinner consisted of liquids as his dad drowned two fingers of liquor one after the other, sitting in his armchair with a glassy and faraway look until Felix barked at him to snap out of it and get a grip. That usually ended in a shouting match and the door slamming behind Felix’s back as he fled in an enraged haze.

The Gautiers’ Christmas tradition was inviting all the people that mattered to a pompous Christmas party to brag about their social status and show what money could buy to everyone who was willing to listen. Mr and Mrs Gautier always stuck to each other like newlyweds in their honeymoon phase, plastic smiles plastered to their faces as if they didn’t spend every waking moment shouting at each other when no prying eyes were present to witness.

Sylvain usually drank a lot at these parties. Most of the time he woke up hungover, naked, and with a stranger in bed with him.

If he wasn’t lying in bed with a stranger, he usually snuck out, after plenty of missed calls and angry messages left by his childhood best friend following the umpteenth fight with his father prompting Felix to seek him out.

Why be one miserable sack of shit for Christmas when you could be _two_ miserable sacks of shit for Christmas?

Felix was safe, Felix felt like home more than everyone he was related to by blood did. Two broken boys with two broken families trying to make the best of it with each other as anchors.

Their own Christmas tradition started a few years ago. Sylvain was watching the Christmas lights play over his best friend's face, giving him an ethereal glow. Felix was wrapped up tightly in Sylvain's coat that he insisted he _didn't need, it's not that cold_ , after storming out of his father's house and forgetting his own.

He leaned over and kissed Felix.

Sylvain had waited with baited breath for Felix to push him away so he could play it off with a joke, or blame it on the alcohol and not the fact that Felix was so painstakingly stunning and he was in love with him. He was in love with Felix Hugo Fraldarius, his best friend. How very cliché.

To his surprise, Felix didn't push him away and insult him, demanding an explanation. Instead, he let go of the lapels of Sylvain's coat and grabbed his face instead, gently, as if Sylvain could break— _cold hands,_ Sylvain noticed—and crashed their mouths together again.

He walked Felix home after that, afraid he'd catch a cold judging by the redness of his nose and his continued sniffling. He watched as he wrapped a blanket over his father's sleeping form, slipped the empty glass out of his lax fingers before it could fall to the ground and deposited it on the coffee table.

Felix asked him to stay, so he did. They spent the night under the covers, sleepily talking amongst each other about a better life, with better memories to be made like teenagers with families like theirs often did, safely wrapped up in each other’s arms. Their sottovoce tones mingled in the dark of Felix’s room, as if afraid anything above a whisper would dispel the magic.

∼

The new Fraldarius-Gautier Christmas tradition consisted of inviting all their friends that they had accumulated over the years, whether they had a shitty family they’d rather not spend the festivities with or not, to come over at their house at their own, very subdued Christmas party.

“I think the garland on the front door is crooked, ‘Vain.” Felix commented, setting down the last box labeled as ‘Xmas stuff’ on the floor near the bare Christmas tree and stretching his back. They both winced as they heard it crack.

“I think it’s on right.” Sylvain replied, stepping down from the ladder to admire his handiwork. There was a mistletoe branch under every doorway, nestled under tinsel so people wouldn’t notice them at first glance. It was evil and he liked it. He was starting to become a little like Felix.

“Fine. But if anyone else points it out, you owe me a fiver.” Felix grouched. God, he loved how much of a little asshole his boyfriend could be.

“Bet.” Sylvain promised, stepping close to him to plant a kiss on his hair—his dusty, cobweb covered hair. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his sweatshirt and ruffled Felix’s hair to get rid of the worst of it.

Felix glared at him, slapping his hand away. Sylvain didn’t take it to heart, Christmas always hit different for Felix—it always left him a little more prickly than usual. It was easy to get his hackles up, his walls ready to go up at a moment’s notice. Fortunately, Sylvain knew how to deal with him and coax him down from his moods.

Speaking of Felix, he was currently unpacking the stuff in the box, coughing at the dust it raised. Sylvain stepped closer to him, helping him to pull Christmas decorations from the box and marveling at some of them. Some were stolen from Felix’s house, others from the Gautier’s estate and last but not least, the ones they’d gathered since they’d started living together. Sylvain remembered buying them with Felix across the years, each one more tacky than the last much to Sylvain’s glee.

“We should throw some of them away. They’re falling apart.” Felix pointed out, holding out a porcelain Santa figurine with a missing nose and a missing hand that he’d just gotten out of its protective film of newspaper.

“I think he looks charming. In a roguish sort of way.” Sylvain snickered, taking both the newspaper and the figurine to dispose of later.

It took them a while to unpack all five of the boxes. Sylvain wondered why they had so many Christmas decorations when they were only going on the tree or somewhere in the living room.

He found himself humming along to Frank Sinatra’s ‘Santa Claus Is Coming to Town’ as it played softly from the radio, untangling baubles to put on the tree as Felix worked on wrestling the tinsel from the knots it had been in. Clearly they had to be smarter over the way they put away decorations.

“Here, let me help.” Sylvain murmured as he slid behind him, putting his hands on Felix’s hips to calm him down. He could feel his usual frown transforming into something deeper, more angry than his usual resting bitch face.

He rubbed his thumbs soothingly over the dip of Felix’s hips before letting go to work on the tinsel, all the while planting kisses on the column of Felix’s neck. It seemed to serve its purpose; he felt Felix’s body weight sagging against his chest.

“Need to take a break?” Sylvain asked, kissing the side of Felix’s head before the other turned in his arms to look at him.

“No, I—” Felix huffed, “‘Vain!” He protested, as Sylvain wrapped the tinsel around his neck like a scarf and pulled him closer. Still, he snaked his arms around Sylvain’s waist, stifling a laugh while Sylvain twiddled the decoration between his fingers.

“What are you gonna do about it?” Sylvain smirked, pulling Felix even closer by the tinsel and leaning down to kiss him as soon as he noticed Felix’s head tilting up and his half-lidded eyes.

Sylvain loved kissing, especially kissing Felix. Ever since that first kiss he’d been addicted to these lips, the way they kissed him assuredly as if they had all the time in the world. Sylvain wouldn’t have it any other way, especially when Felix got impatient and nibbled his lower lip, his tongue immediately following to soothe the hurt. Sylvain let out a sigh, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. Pure euphoria spread in his chest, his heart fluttering happily while their tongues met, Sylvain’s hand leaving the tinsel in favor of cradling Felix’s jaw in his hands, thumbs swiping gently over his cheekbones.

All too soon, they had to come up for air, but they didn’t completely separate—their foreheads still touching. Felix had a small smile on his lips and Sylvain took that as a win, rubbing his nose against his boyfriend’s.

“Hey, look.” Sylvain pointed up, chuckling lowly, “Right under the mistletoe.”

Felix groaned loudly in displeasure, burying his head in Sylvain’s neck. It was echoed by Sylvain’s boisterous guffaw.

With his boyfriend’s bad mood dispelled, they both got back to work and moved onto the bare tree. They always settled for a pattern of deep blue and vibrant red for it: their favorite colors. Sylvain grabbed a handful of red baubles from their box like the greedy fuck he was, piling them up on his arms.

They were quiet for a while, both too occupied with their own section of the tree, the radio and the twinkling of glass decorations being the only source of noise to fill the companionable silence.

Sylvain let his mind wander. They had a busy day ahead of them, it was the 24th and guests would start coming that evening. It was going to be a day dedicated to christmas decoration and...cooking. A _lot_ of cooking. Guests were, of course, encouraged to bring something to eat. It was a potluck of sorts. Mostly because neither him or Felix were particularly good cooks.

Well, no one would taste the food anymore once the alcohol would start being passed around. It was one of the reasons it was a potluck _and_ a sleepover. Sylvain and Felix didn’t want any of their friends to be driving in the snow after a few glasses of Mercedes’ world famous (infamous?) mulled wine. Even Sylvain himself wasn’t immune to whatever she put in there.

Dedue usually cooked some Duscur specialty that was always the first thing to go, followed by whatever Ashe had put his mind into cooking that year, then Annette’s cookies, and Lysithea’s Christmas cake.

Sylvain had started to love Christmas thanks to their little get-togethers every year, but he knew it was still hard for Felix. Glenn’s car crash happened so close to Christmas, as he was driving down to spend the holiday with his family. It meant Felix was always grieving this time of the year.

Sylvain did his best to keep his spirits up, but he had known Felix long enough to know when he needed to be coddled and when he needed to be left alone. He wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t feel like absolute shit when Felix shut him out like that, but there was enough trust built between them that Felix sought him out and talked to him when it was too much.

He exhaled, as if physically pushing the thoughts away as he hung up another bauble on the tree. It was fine. It would be fine, Felix hadn’t put walls up in a few years; Sylvain wouldn’t have to watch him suffer without being able to do anything.

“Are you done there?” As if summoned, Felix peeked from his side of the tree, tinsel no longer around his neck like a scarf. Sylvain kind of missed it.

He nodded in response, getting up and dusting his pant legs with his hands.

“Good. Help me with the lights.” Felix gestured his head towards the tangled mess that passed for their christmas lights and Sylvain groaned. They really needed to organize stuff better.

Sylvain sighed, seeing Felix much of the same from the corner of his eye. “You take one end and I take the other?”

Once the semantics were settled, Sylvain started humming again. Menial tasks like this lulled him back to his thoughts, probably the reason why he didn’t spot the tangle of lights on the ground that was waiting to ambush him as he circled the tree.

He let out a loud yelp he would later deny, his back hitting the ground in seconds and _shit_ , that hurt like a _motherfucker_. He looked at his traitorous foot that was now wrapped in Christmas lights, feeling betrayed.

“Sylvain? Is everything alright?” Felix called, clearly startled by the thump and yell coming from his boyfriend’s side of the tree.

“Yeah, just be careful. The Christmas lights-” Before he could finish the sentence, Felix had appeared to check on him, unaware of Sylvain’s share of the lights hanging off of the tree still and wrapping around the midnight haired man’s leg.

“ _Fuck!”_ Felix cursed, toppling in Sylvain’s waiting arms. He had seen it coming.

Felix glared at him from his perch over Sylvain’s chest, as if it was _his_ fault. Okay, _technically_ it was. Sylvain merely petted his side from where he was laying, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I usually set the mood lighting better than this, huh.” He commented offhandedly, earning himself a scowl and a squirming Felix on his lap, probably settling himself to yell at him.

He realized he was a goner when their hips brushed together and he wasn’t fast enough to bite off his moan. Felix grunted in surprise, as if it was a shocker that Sylvain had a boner for him pressing against his hip.

“Really, Sylvain?” He asked, hand trailing down to the front of Sylvain’s sweatpants and—sure enough, he was half hard.

“Hey, cut me some slack, we haven’t—in a while.” It was Sylvain’s turn to huff. It was true, the past week had been a mad dash to get up early and prepare stuff for their party, grocery runs so their fridge wouldn’t be empty for their guests, unpacking the basement and falling face first on their bed to sleep like the dead.

Just that small brush had been enough for Sylvain’s hips to slightly stutter to seek contact. Fuck, who could blame him with Felix leaning so prettily against his chest, looking at him meanly. He was weak and in love.

“Are you going to do anything ab-” His jab was cut off as Felix kissed him while his hand simultaneously slipped under his waistband, stroking his cock over his boxers. _Fuck yeah, finally_ , Sylvain thought, his words melting into a muffled moan of both relief and pleasure.

Their kiss got dirtier when Sylvain reciprocated, the friction from Felix’s fingers felt like heaven and he ground against it, spreading his legs for easier access.

“Fuck, like that.” He gasped, Felix’s teeth sinking in his throat to leave what would be a memorable hickey, making himself known for his mean streak that Sylvain loved oh so much.

It was clear Felix had been looking forward to this as much as Sylvain had, if the frenzied way he pulled down Sylvain’s pants and underwear meant anything. His cheeks were flushed cutely, face contorted in that concentrated expression he only got when he was working on something particularly difficult or when he was fucking Sylvain in earnest.

“Missed you. Missed your hands, your cock, your mouth.” Sylvain knew he was babbling at this point, the stream of dirty compliments falling from his lips, hands grabbing under Felix’s shirt to play with the supple flesh on his chest.

Felix moaned, moving one arm next to Sylvain’s face to prop himself up, fingers closing around Sylvain’s cock and pumping him from base to tip, the precome that had been steadily leaking out from the slit easing the way.

The touch felt electric, a shudder shaking Sylvain’s body as he planted his feet on the floor to fuck into Felix’s fist. A garbled moan that could have been Felix’s name spilled from his lips, hands losing purchase from Felix’s nipples to hang onto dear life to Felix’s back, nails scratching the skin and digging in when that wonderful, calloused hand squeezed around his dick.

“Close.” He panted, drawing his boyfriend in a kiss that he let Felix control, mind going blank as he felt his release fast approaching.

“Let me see you.” Felix rasped, voice hoarse with arousal. He twisted his wrist in that clever way that always made Sylvain fall apart and Sylvain tipped over the edge, a shout of Felix’s name leaving his lips as he peaked, come coating Felix’s hand and his own shirt.

“Stunning.” He could feel Felix’s lips caressing his cheek as he said it, a kiss following. His cock gave a valiant twitch at that, but he was spent. Trust Felix, the man he was in love with, to make his libido consider another round so soon.

The mood shattered when Felix wiped his hand on Sylvain’s already soiled shirt. He laughed breathlessly, grabbing Felix’s face between his hands and kissing his face wherever he could reach: His nose, his cheeks, his forehead, his lips.

“Come on, big boy. My turn.” He chuckled, taking ahold of one of Sylvain’s hands and dragging it down, over his neck, down his chest, stopping right on the V of his hips and letting Sylvain continue the motion.

Sylvain obliged, hand gliding under the waistband to find Felix wet and waiting. Fuck, he was so wet. It must have been torture to watch Sylvain fall apart.

Luckily for him, Sylvain planned to make it up to him. Fingers gently rubbing his folds, he relished on the little gasped _ah_ that fell from Felix’s lips, teeth sinking in his lower lip as his hips stuttered against Sylvain’s fingers.

The arm Felix had placed close to Sylvain’s head trembled, but Felix was still gripping control with his teeth, something Sylvain admired in him. No matter what he did, he never wavered.

He smiled, moving his thumb to rub at Felix’s smaller cock, feeling Felix’s control slip just a little as he folded his arm, almost falling on Sylvain as the auburn haired man relentlessly circled it with the pad of his fingertip.

“You’re so beautiful.” Sylvain breathed, his other hand once again finding Felix’s nipple over his shirt and gently twisting it.

Felix glared at him, breaking into moans as Sylvain gently eased his finger inside, “Wanna eat you out next time, baby, feel your taste on my tongue.” He murmured, thrusting his finger inside and searching for that little spot that always made his boyfriend let out a small, hitched whine.

“Stop—talking and pick up the pace.” Felix snapped, cheeks aflame from a mix of dirty talk and arousal, moving to chase the poor stimulation Sylvain’s finger was proving to be.

Sylvain obliged, adding another finger along with the first one, thrusting inside at the best of his abilities with the limited space their position allowed him. He’d done worse, though, and no matter the position, Felix was always gorgeous when he came.

He got Felix back for his hickeys by getting his own mouth on that pale, long neck. He sucked mark after mark on it, biding his time and listening to his little gasped moans, aiming a particularly hard thrust of his fingers in his sweet spot while scraping his teeth on his throat.

The next thing Sylvain knew, Felix was coming, breath hot on Sylvain’s ear as he grunted out his name. His hand ended up pinned under Felix’s body weight when his boyfriend’s arm gave out. Sylvain smirked goodbye to Felix’s hard resisting self control.

“Okay?” Sylvain asked, petting Felix’s back while his chest heaved as he regained his breathing.

Felix allowed them a few minutes on the hardwood floor, which was slowly killing Sylvain’s back. He wouldn’t complain, though. Felix’s warmth was nice, especially when he was licking into his mouth, trying to savor the precious little time they had before their house was full of people and they would be led to two different parts of their living room to catch up with their friends.

When they separated, he made sure Felix saw him lick his fingers clean, relishing in how his eyes darkened with future promises shared in their bed sheets.

∼

“Why.” Felix stated plainly, looking over Sylvain’s ugly Christmas sweater, announcing he was ‘Santa’s Favorite Ho’.

“You don’t like it?” Sylvain pouted, lower lip jutting out in his best impression of a slighted toddler. Felix would not cave in this time.

Felix raised an eyebrow, a nonverbal, _‘you think?’_ while his eyes refused to leave the sweater. It was fuzzy and warm, Sylvain knew Felix would seek him out once he’d had a few drinks to snuggle in his chest and against it.

Their Christmas parties always ended up with either of them pleasantly toasted and looking for the other for PDA.

“Does that mean you won’t be wearing your ‘Merry Christmas ya filthy animals’ sweater Dorothea got you last Christmas? She got them as set, you know.” Sylvain looked at his boyfriend, currently avoiding his eyes as he rubbed a towel on his hair to dry it at their bathroom sink.

“I’ll think about it.” Was Felix’s muffled reply, which usually meant he would because Dorothea _and_ Sylvain would both be disappointed if he didn’t. He tried to hide it but Felix was a sucker both for his boyfriend of seven years and their friends.

Felix liked to pretend he didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve. Sylvain loved him for that but still he gave him a lot of shit about it. He decided to not prod tonight, instead pressing a kiss to the crown of his head and stepping back in their bedroom to spray just a tad of cologne. The nice one that had Felix subtly-unsubtly planting his nose at the hollow of his throat.

The radio was still going strong somewhere in the living room, loud enough that they could still hear it from the bedroom. Just how Sylvain loved, so he could hum or sing along from wherever he was in the house, neighbors be damned.

So it wasn’t his fault for what happened next, as he padded to the bathroom so he could lean against the door frame in what he hoped was a sensual manner and didn’t make him look like an idiot. He caught Felix’s puzzled gaze in the mirror before his eyes widened in absolute horror, warning Sylvain with a shake of his head.

But, it was too late. The song had kicked in and with it, Sylvain’s self preservation had gone.

“I don’t want a lot for Christmas…” Sylvain started, right on beat with Mariah Carey’s ‘All I want for Christmas’, “There’s just one thing I need.”

“Sylvain. I need to get ready for the guests.” Felix was by far unfazed and uncharmed, such a prickly little thing. Ah, but Sylvain’ll fix it.

He shimmied his hips, slowly approaching Felix and singing along, trying his hardest to not laugh at the contrite expression on Felix’s face as he turned to level him with a cute glare that betrayed how fond he was of Sylvain’s antics.

Sylvain grabbed Felix’s hands lightning quick, pulling him away from the sink and into his chest. Felix heaved a sigh, but let Sylvain’s broad palms settle on his hips, humoring him for a while as he danced and sung for both of them.

Felix’s hand flew to fix a lock of stray, auburn hair from Sylvain’s face, huffing out a laugh as it fell right back into his face thanks to his frenetic dancing. Sylvain’s eyes were glinting with genuine mirth and mischief, locked with his. It was a look far more attractive than all his playboy act bullshit. It lit up his whole face, distracting Felix and making him fall in love even more.

Which was why he didn’t notice until too late when Sylvain’s hand around his hips tightened and he was thrown on the bed, an undignified squeak leaving his lips as the mattress bounced under his weight and had the springs groaning in protest.

“All I want for Christmas,” Sylvain intoned, joining him on the bed and straddling his hips, “Is you∼”

“Are you finished?” Felix raised an eyebrow, ignoring the way Sylvain’s face dipped closer until their noses were touching.

“No.” The man replied, diving in to smack kisses on whatever part of Felix he could reach as his boyfriend sputtered and tried to push him away by his shoulders in false protest.

It was a normal Christmas Eve day.

∼

Sylvain watched their guests file one after another into their living room, mostly friends from their dorm in college: The Blue Lions. All of them had covered plates or beverages, a steady flow that ended up filling their kitchen counter.

Mercedes’s mulled wine had already been put into paper cups and everyone had one in hand, little groups scattered all over their house and talking, with a comforting sense of _family_ bringing the whole scene together.

Felix was squeezed between Annette and Claude, wearing his ‘Merry Christmas Ya filthy animals’ sweatshirt, like Sylvain knew he would. It was somewhat of a weird trio until you spotted the Switch in all their hands. Ah, the party had barely started and Felix was already dead set on beating everyone at Mario Kart. Splatoon? He wasn’t sure.

“Sylvain, hello!” Ashe greeted, walking over to him with a kind smile on his face. God, he owed Ashe the world for what he had done for Sylvain. He had helped him with Felix’s Christmas gift: a small, black, pesky thing directly from the shelter Ashe worked at that had yelled nonstop at Sylvain as soon as it had seen him. He had known immediately _that_ kitty would be a perfect fit for his grumpy boyfriend.

“Hello, Ashe. Having fun?” Sylvain asked, not seeing Yuri anywhere near the silver haired man. Weird. They were attached at the hips, best friends since Sylvain had known them.

“So far, yes. I just wanted to tell you,” Ashe lowered his voice to an almost theatrical whisper, looking around to make sure no one could overhear them. “He’s waiting for you guys at my house. I'll bring him over tomorrow morning?”

“Thanks, Ashe. You’re a lifesaver.” Sylvain breathed, receiving a smile in response.

“Sylvain!” Yuri exclaimed, joining the conversation with a sly smile. “Have you noticed the garland at your front door is crooked, friend?”

“For fuck’s sake.” Sylvain muttered, digging in his back pocket for his wallet and taking out a five dollar bill. “You’re the third person who told me that.”

He excused himself from them to slide the banknote in Felix’s waiting fingers, a smug smile framing his boyfriend’s face.

Sylvain would have been more cranky about losing if it had been anyone else, but the smirk looked wonderful on Felix’s face. He pecked his temple as Claude and Annette cheered for his success in distracting the competition as Felix blushed furiously and almost dropped the switch on the carpeted floor.

Satisfied, he moved on, checking on guests and friends alike, entering conversations that he found interesting and partaking in the food. He used to do this at the Gautiers’ parties, too, but he was less genuine; façade after façade painted on his face depending if he was talking to so-and-so’s daughter or one of his father’s many business associates. Everyone required a different version of him that Sylvain had finely handcrafted.

Dimitri and Dedue were quietly talking in the kitchen, heads bowed together as they talked to each other over Dedue’s dish. Dimitri was still anxious about coming to these parties, the bridge between him and Felix still far from being repaired. But Felix played nice at Christmas, mostly avoiding the blond man like the plague. Sylvain would have that over a scene in the middle of their nice gathering. They’d have to talk someday, however.

“Gentlemen.” Sylvain greeted, smiling amicably at the two. “Hope I’m not interrupting, just wanted to have a taste of this. Smells delicious, Dedue.”

Dimitri smiled, clapping Sylvain’s back and almost sending him face first into the plate in front of them. Well, it seemed like Sylvain had misjudged the situation. DImitri looked good, better than he’d looked in years: Blond hair gathered in a half updo, eyepatch sitting on his right eye. He looked healthy, less tired and as if the weight of the whole world was resting on his shoulders. Glenn’s death had hit both him and Felix pretty badly. Felix still hadn’t recovered completely, but he was on his way.

“Sylvain, it’s been too long.” Dimitri replied, blush high on his cheeks and gaze darting from him to Dedue. _Well, well._

“Tell me about it. You’re always holed up in that nice, big CEO office of yours.” That caused Dimitri to chuckle, Dedue’s mouth turning up in a small smile as well.

He listened to them discuss the newest happenings in their lives as he chewed slowly through Dedue’s dish, something with meat and mild spices that tasted like home, just like everything Dedue cooked did.

Just when he was about to join the conversation with some news of his own, someone tugged at his sleeve and he turned to look at a very nervous Ingrid.

“Can I talk to you?” She murmured, hand tightening on his arm. “Oh, one second I want some of this.”

Normally, seeing _Ingrid_ of all people nervous would have immediately agitated him, too, but if her appetite was still strong it probably meant she just needed some kind of reassurance. They both knew Felix wasn’t prone to soothing her, instead fixing her with an unimpressed look and a ‘deal with it yourself’. The only exception was Sylvain. Felix was still working through showing his vulnerable side in front of his friends, which meant Sylvain was Ingrid’s sole lifeline right now.

“What’s wrong, Ingy? You seem tense.” He wondered, once they had found a quiet corner in the living room.

Ingrid’s arm shot up, pulling him until he was positioned right in front of her. Sylvain sent her a questioning look, confused. Was she _hiding_ from someone? Sylvain subtly looked around, trying to spot anyone looking at them but with no success.

“Annette and Mercedes are hunting me down. They want to fix my hair and put makeup on me.” Ingrid explained, or that’s what Sylvain understood, since she was stuffing her face with Dedue’s gratin.

Sylvain made an understanding sound, not actually spotting either of them for the moment, they’d probably gotten roped in conversation by one of their many mutual friends.

Ingrid had always resisted Annie and Mercie’s attempts at prettying her up, insisting she didn’t need any of that. Sylvain had never argued with any of them on it, far from him to butt his head in where it would be immediately chopped off.

Sylvain risked another look at the living room. He saw Raphael and Hilda coaxing Marianne to try one of Annette’s sweets, laughing delightly at the way Marianne’s face lit up once she had tasted the pastry. Sylvain still hadn’t had a chance to sample them - maybe he should, when he had a moment.

Most of their friends seemed to be having a good time and Sylvain felt his shoulder relax just a little, it had been worth it like every year, after all.

A quick glance towards the couch revealed that The Switch Trio had dispersed; Felix had probably beaten the other two and they’d all moved on after Felix had defended the title of Champion for the fourth year in a row.

What was unusual is that he couldn’t spot his boyfriend’s familiar face anywhere in the room or from the open door to the kitchen. He’d been so swept up in conversations with all the catching up to do in the past hour he hadn’t checked in with Felix in a while.

“Hey- Do you mind fending for yourself for a while?” Sylvain asked, squeezing Ingrid’s shoulder momentarily and leaving before he could get her answer.

Just before panic could kick in, he heard cheers coming from the doorway leading from the living room to the bedrooms. Amongst those voices were cheers of _his boyfriend_ ’s name. What the fuck?

He made his way toward the voices, Ingrid in tow ready to scold whoever was causing ruckus. Sylvain kinda echoed the sentiment; he was all for parties but he didn’t want to get kicked out of their _very nice_ apartment because of a noise complaint.

Nothing could have prepared him for the scene in front of him: Claude and a reluctant Ashe were holding two trays with shot glasses that were quickly being grabbed and gulped down by Yuri and…. _Felix._

Sothis above. He knew this couldn’t have been Felix’s idea, he’d probably been goaded on by Claude and Yuri. A mysterious pink shadow pressed a dollar in Yuri’s waiting palm just as he threw his head back to drink the shot, and his suspicion was confirmed: all a clever plot by Claude, Yuri and Hilda.

It was over too quickly. Yuri was crowned as a winner and Felix, who had put up a good fight, became even more disgruntled and drunk.

He made a beeline for Sylvain as soon as he saw him, greatly underestimating his strength and almost tackling the redhead to the ground with the force of his hug.

“Hey, having fun?” Sylvain wrapped his arm around Felix’s shoulders in an attempt to stabilize them both and to make sure Felix wouldn’t topple them to the ground. Luckily, he had been expecting the extra weight.

“You smell good.” Felix’s voice was a barely-there mumble as he tucked his nose against the column of Sylvain’s throat. Ah, Felix had finally noticed the cologne. Better late than never.

“Come on,” Sylvain gently stirred, moving his hand to the small of Felix’s back so he could gently guide him towards the empty couch.

Once Felix was carefully set across his lap and draped over his chest, he leaned back against the couch cushions, enjoying a moment of peace and rest with his arms wrapped around his boyfriend. Up until Felix started leaving open mouthed kisses on the side of his neck, teeth scraping against the shell of Sylvain’s ear in a delightful way that made him bite back a moan.

“Here. For the drunk dumbass.” Hilda materialized out of nowhere. Thankfully, she was offering a cup of water to him.

“Oh. Thanks, Hilda.” Sylvain accepted the glass, even if he was a little weirded out by her niceness. She usually always wanted something in exchange.

“Thank _Felix_ for the nice show. It was wonderful to watch.” Hilda took a seat next to them and suddenly everything made sense. Apparently Yuri and Claude’s scheme had paid off: she seemed satisfied. He disapproved a little since they had gotten Felix drunk but...at least it was in the safety of their home where Sylvain could keep a good eye on him.

“So, I’m guessing you have something to share, since you’re here?” Sylvain questioned, offering her the now empty glass of water and watching as she placed it on the coffee table. Over a coaster, too. Extra nice.

Her eyes glinted with mischief and Sylvain just _knew_ she had good gossip to pass around. He couldn’t deny he enjoyed being aware of all the secrets and background going ons in their “little” rag tag group. Felix, bless his heart, wasn’t interested in them and couldn’t care less, so Sylvain didn’t have anyone else to discuss them with except the pink haired woman in front of him.

“I’m assuming you know of Claude and Dimitri?” She asked, lowering her voice, covering the side of her mouth in a conspiring manner. He was pretty sure everyone knew of Dimitri and Claude hooking up at Dorothea’s birthday party back in September - even Felix, who refused to catch wind of anything happening in their friends group, had discovered it. He hadn’t been happy about it, knowing anything Dimitri irked him on a different level. The lovebites of Sylvain’s neck had taken a while to disappear during that period.

At his answering nod, her smirk widened, her eyes flitting about the room before she lowered her tone of voice even more. “So, do you know about Dimitri, Claude and Yuri?”

He was glad that Felix was too far gone and too busy sucking hickeys on Sylvain’s neck for him to be engaged in the conversation. Sylvain decided he would take a bullet and not tell him, even if it meant giving up on amazing sex for however long Felix decided to sulk when the hard news hit his boyfriend. Sylvain Josè Gautier would be a martyr, remembered for ages to come.

“Damn.” Sylvain breathed out, impressed. Hilda giggled and patted his shoulder before getting up. “I have to get this to Lorenz. See you!”

Sylvain found himself thumbing absent mindedly at Felix’s inner thigh, the side of his neck stinging deliciously thanks to Felix’s handiwork. The water seemed to have calmed him down, now he could feel his soft breathing against his skin, probably straddling the line between awake and asleep as of right now.

“I want to fuck you.” ...Or not. Sylvain patted his jean clad leg, chuckling. He didn’t think Felix could even stand right now. Let alone fuck him.

“Sure, babe. Let’s get you some more water and then we’ll see how you feel about that?” Sylvain asked, rubbing back in comforting circles.

Once the party had calmed down, everyone settling down on the pull out couches for the night, Sylvain realized that, once again, he had underestimated his boyfriend’s stubbornness when he got something stuck in his head.

∼

Sylvain sighed, pushing against the warmth he could feel wrapped around him, Felix’s arms caging him against his chest as he slept off the dregs of last night’s alcoholic indulgences.

Felix’s arms tightened around him unconsciously, pulling him closer in his sleep. He mumbled something incoherently under his breath, something that suspiciously sounded like Sylvain’s name.

Detangling himself, Sylvain did his best to not wake up the man sleeping beside him, even if it was a faint hope, considering how much of a light sleeper Felix was. As predicted, Felix stirred, reaching out for him and catching his wrist with impressive reflexes, considering he was dead to the world a few minutes earlier.

“Where are you going?” He drowsily mumbled, cheek pressed against Sylvain’s pillow.

“Just going to check in on the others. Get some more rest, okay?” Sylvain suggested, running his hand through Felix’s sleep mussed hair.

Felix didn’t seem convinced, only relenting when Sylvain pressed him against the sheets and kissed him chastely once, twice, then nuzzled his cheek. Honestly, he didn’t want to leave either, he wanted to drag the whole bundle that was Felix enveloped in the sheets and hug it to his chest. Ashe was probably waiting for him, though.

Once Felix was asleep once again, deep breaths making his chest rise and fall peacefully, Sylvain got up and made his way to the living room.

The blinds were still closed. Most people were still in their beds, dealing with their hangover. There was some hushed movement and voices coming from the kitchen though, early risers getting their coffee and breakfast ready.

Mercie and Dedue were busy over the stove, offering hushed greetings as they perused the pantry and fridge. Mercie kissed his cheek as he passed by to grab a cup of coffee, patting his arm affectionately.

Byleth was staring outside of their kitchen window, deep in thought and with a cup of tea half raised to her lips.

“Good morning, professor.” Sylvain greeted, sliding next to her. She hadn’t been their professor for a long while, but every one of them still called her that. It had stuck as an affectionate nickname. Despite only being a few years older than them, she had been a rock in all their lives.

Sylvain couldn’t even begin to explain how much she had helped him and Felix when they couldn’t help each other. He was sure everyone currently in this house would agree.

Byleth was young, but wise beyond her years...and hadn’t aged a second since Sylvain had first met her in college. All of them liked to joke she was some kind of Goddess.

“Hello, Sylvain. You look well.” Byleth smiled at him, muted but kind. _You look well,_ Sylvain knew was code for _You look better. Happy._

“Yeah, well, drinking will do that to you.” Sylvain joked, earning himself a fond eye roll, just like Felix would do when he had reached his limit with Sylvain’s bullshit.

They enjoyed watching the sun rise and engulf the kitchen in golden light, with Dedue and Mercedes pottering behind them; the smell of breakfast cooking would soon make the others rise, so they enjoyed the last moments of quietness.

It was Christmas.

∼

The kitten weighed almost nothing in his arms as he cradled him against his chest, a red bow around his neck in stark contrast to his black fur. He was purring up a storm, rubbing himself against the fuzzy material of his sweatshirt. He was the cutest little thing Sylvain’d ever seen, only second to Felix’s pouting when he didn’t get his way.

He pushed the door to their bedroom open, his eyes immediately falling unto the Felix-shaped lump on the bed, only stray locks of hair visible from Sylvain’s perch on the door jamb.

Sylvain deposited the kitten on the bed, watching him as he immediately made a beeline for Felix’s face, nosing at him and scenting him with his cheek. Sylvain took a picture with his phone...or twenty.

Felix’s face scrunched up, the cat’s whiskers tickling his face. He didn’t open his eyes, though, merely moved his face away. It was useless, however, because the kitty demanded Felix’s attention by placing a paw on his face and _yelling_ with his tiny voice.

Felix’s eyes flew open, landing on the ball of fur currently still yelling at him and widening in surprise.

“It was about time. He _really_ wanted your attention.” Sylvain chuckled softly, making his way towards his boyfriend and sitting on the bed.

“Sounds like someone I know.” Felix deadpanned, picking the cat up to scratch behind his ears gently.

“Hey! I’m cuter than him.” Sylvain halfheartedly protested, scooting so he could settle on the bed with Felix and the kitten, their bodies shielding almost protectively around him.

Felix snorted, shaking his head, his fingers dancing around on the cat’s fur. He was soaking in the attention and affection, purring in pleasure.

“Merry Christmas, Felix.” Sylvain’s hand joined Felix’s atop the kitten’s fur and interlocked their fingers.

“Merry Christmas, Sylvain.” Felix’s hand gently squeezed around his fingers, tugging him down so they could lay back on the bed and enjoy a few more minutes under the covers before someone eventually came to bother them.

Sylvain thought back on Byleth’s unsaid words as they laid there, basking in each other’s presence: _You look better. Happy._

Sylvain thought back to his college years, a ball of self deprecation and muted bitterness hanging around him like a mist, despite being at Felix’s side. Felix, who was still dealing with the repercussions of a recently dead brother.

Now, he looked at his boyfriend, the man he loved, wrapped around him with a ball of overexcited fur between them. Felix’s gaze was full of adoration both for the kitty in his arms and for Sylvain, lips parted as if begging to be kissed.

He _did_ look better. He _did_ feel happy, more than he’d ever been in years. He felt even better when Felix let him tip his chin up to draw him into a long, sweet kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!  
> Huge thanks to my friends for their suggestions (notable thanks to Franka: they know what they did ;).)  
> Thank you Mel, for betaing and being a literal angel 💙
> 
> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/hanzohoemada) | Link to the [promo post](https://twitter.com/hanzohoemada/status/1340409349244633089?s=20)


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